


to unfreeze a heart, you need some water and blood, to warm it you need love

by Fee_Verte



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, but they always share these intense looks, it makes one wonder, somewhat cracky, the night king is rather obsessed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fee_Verte/pseuds/Fee_Verte
Summary: My take on the Night King, Jon Snow and what happened in 7.06. Inspired by this weeks installment of Game of Thrones.





	1. first you find a way and a love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13.12.2017: Edited.

He had planned for one dragon at least, but when the young King fell into the water and was left behind, Brandon Stark knew he had to have him. It was not something he had seen in any vision. So, instead of directing his army to collect the chains he had prepared for the occasion, he walked to the fracture where ice and water met.

Brandon's trap had worked wonderfully, he had his prize, but another - much more valuable - awaited him. He took up the sword made from the fire-metal and gave it to his first lieutenant, it would not do for him to die here after all, and the young man was gifted with a sword. Brandon had been impressed by him ever since the first time they met at the place the living called Hardhome.

The first thing that appeared was a hand, Brandon took it and lifted him out of the water. He had Brandon's blood, he had the Stark looks and he most likely wore Brandon's crown too. Cursed be the children of the forest. The very pretty King shook, from the shock, the cold or from both? He was mortal enough to need warmth, Brandon had to do something, or the pretty king would die, which was not what he wanted. Luckily Brandon never forgot how to do fire magic, even if he had not practiced it in millennia. He concentrated and… There it was done, a bubble of warmth for his prize.

After a single thought sent to Brandon's lieutenants they took the young Stark from him and the dead began to lurch to the chains. It was time to get his dragon. Afterward he would destroy the Wall he once built. What an irony, bloody children, had it not been enough that Brandon had to divide his Kingdom into two? Why had they to try and turn him into a weapon to be used against his family? Well at least he had gotten free from their control and was able to avenge himself and his people. And now after so many years of careful planning...

A cry, some fire wielding madman had come and was trying to get to the Stark King. But it was not a man, it was a Wight turned by the children, they never learned, did they. The Stark blood protected them from many forms of magical control. The injuries of the Stark-Wight were not that grave, he must have died from the cold or from starvation. Brandon smiled, he would be able to take this one away from the children. He laid one finger on the Wight and let the curse in him take hold. Blue began to spread, and soon blood began to flow anew. Brandon's smile became a tad warmer, now there were two of them. Not just Brandon and his Wights and lieutenants, no now there were two living beings made from ice. He had gained two companions in the span of one day when before he had none for close to eight thousand years. Soon enough, when he was past the wall and human again, he would have millions who were the same as him.

* * *

 

Jon - Brandon learned the name from Jon's uncle, Benjen Stark - looked even better when he was clad in the fine white pelts than he did standing on the battlefield. But either way, he looked very defiant. He was a stubborn Northerner in a situation he did not like, so that was very normal, Brandon thought. "King Jon, I'm sure you think of me as your enemy." His ability to speak seemed to surprise Jon. "But allow me to explain my side, and I'm sure we will come to an understanding."

Jon's cute scrunched up nose drew attention to his pretty dark eyes. "You want me to believe that you do not plan to conquer Westeros?"

"Oh no, give me the opportunity I would try to conquer it. But I would want to do it as a man, like I once was, and under my true name." To be able to look like he should, to hear his name from another human's lips, what a sweet dream.

"Which is?"

"Brandon Stark, the First, also known as Brandon the Builder. And to become a man again, I am going to need several things, all of them are in Winterfell at this moment."

Jon looked surprised, but not wholly convinced. "You will have to go through the Wall to get to Winterfell. But you can’t cross it, or can you?"

"I built the Wall, I know all its secrets. There are some rather easy ways to destroy it, I made sure of it after the children of the forest betrayed their pact with humanity. And I would like to remind you, if I become human again, then your uncle will too and the threat of my undead army will be gone." It was always family that could bring a Stark down, the pack survives after all, as the gods had decreed it.

"Very well." Jon spoke rather unwillingly. "You have my permission go take what you need from Winterfell."

"How generous of you, Jon from Winterfell." Brandon smiled warmly and pressed a chaste kiss to Jon's lips, who blushed. Which gave Brandon hope, nobody who was completely appalled by what was offered blushed like this. Maybe not now, but when he looked like a Stark again... "To give me  **everything**  that I need. I am no monster however, and will therefore not take you up to that offer." He drew his hand, still coloured in the blue of his curse, through Jon's dark hair. "Water from the pools in the Godswood to cleanse the wound that has condemned me and only a tiny bit of blood from a living Stark to help me finding the correct path to a human body. Those are the only things I require for the ritual. With the blessings of the Old Gods, which I already have, I will turn back to a human again." Brandon paused. "Afterwards you and I could go to a hunt together or just dine alone. I have been King for a long time and I am very willing to help you however I can." The blush returned.

"I would be very glad to have help in ruling the North." Jon said. "And I stand by my offer, Brandon, everything you need." His name had never sounded better than spoken by Jon. It was very surprising however, that the offer was more than a slip of the tongue. Why? He searched Jon’s face for an answer. Ah, he knew what it could be, Jon seemed to be attracted by power. How nice, yes, this boded well for their future, Brandon was the most powerful being in Planetos, Gods and Goddesses excluded. Brandon could deliver what Jon wanted and Jon was what Brandon always sought for – pretty, strong, blessed by the Old Gods, and good (or as good as any could be in this world).


	2. second you go to the place of magic and get to know your love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 6.1.2018: Edited. New scene.

Everything was in place, the Wights stood side by side spanning the entire length of the Wall. It was important that they touched as much as they could, the Wall had to fall all at once or it would not fall at all. Brandon was nervous, yes nervous, soon he would be able to become human again, which meant Jon and he would be able to further their relationship more. Brandon restricted himself to talks (of their histories, their hopes, their plans and much more), no kisses had been shared between them after the first one shortly after he had captured Jon.

Brandon gave the command and the dragon obeyed, it set the nearest Wight aflame which in turn set the next ones on fire… The magical fire spread faster than normal fire and soon he felt how the last Wight began to burn and then the ground shook – he had to brace himself (and Jon) as to not fall – and the Wall trembled. It was finally falling, first slow but then it evaporated faster and faster.

He pushed his senses outwards, he could feel all the Weirwoods in the South – why only so few? – it was done.

* * *

 

By the Old Gods, Brandon would never had thought, that so much could have happened in and to Westeros. One or several of his descendants had lost huge parts of the North, and it had been millennia until the Stark ruled everything from the Neck upwards again. There was a new religion who had burned down the Weirwoods, Bran was tempted to introduce them to the might and anger of the Old Gods. And as if that was not enough, the Starks had not been Kings for more than three centuries, at least until Jon’s brother was declared King in the North. Some upstart from a new dragon possessing empire had conquered Westeros. Pfh, he was not even of the Golden Empire Brandon knew had had dragons when he was ruling over the North.

If so much had changed, did the courting process too? Should Brandon go forward with his plan to heap gift after gift upon Jon? He had enough gold, from the time he had been able to trade with the South and from the selling of dragon bones which would happen soon, he could buy all those gifts he wanted to give to Jon. Either way, he should start with swathes of fine silk and other cloths, blue would look good on Jon. Brandon was unable to get aroused – damn the Children – but all thought of Jon excited him as much as they could. Brandon wanted more than just some fucks, so he would need…

“Does Winterfell still look like when you built it?“ Jon had ridden over from Benjen. A small smile still on his lips.

And he spoke true, Brandon hadn’t noticed, but as they had reached the top of the hill he could now see a castle. Was it still the same?

“Somewhat, the colours and structures appear to be very similar.“ Brandon said. “But the walls are new and so are most of the buildings I can see.“

“I can believe that. Did you know father had built a Sept for Lady Stark.“ Brandon could hear Jon’s smirk.

“Well, everything that has been built up can be brought down again.“ He answered darkly. Dangerous fools who burned Weirwoods should not have a place in the heart of his kingdom.

This caused Jon to laugh, he found Brandon’s reactions to unknown events in Westeros oftentimes very funny. He should probably be angry at that, but Brandon could only ever stare at Jon as his heart made a small jump when he saw the other man laugh so freely.

“We are going to cause so much strife and heart attacks.“ Jon said after his laughter died down. “Mostly you, the legendary Brandon the Builder turned Other. All the decisions I’m going to make. Daenarys Targaryen is not going to be happy with me not only because I won’t bend the knee, but also because I bring back another King. One who has killed a dragon, who she considers to be her child.“ Jon frowned. “Cersei Lannister will try to do something, she really wants her power, if what Sansa told me is true. On top of that it’s still winter.“

“Only for one to two years.“ Brandon tried to calm down Jon. “And even when I’m a human again I’m going to be powerful enough to ensure that no invasion from the South will ever succeed. And on the matter of the dragon, the North is my kingdom, she flew in and attacked me and mine. She does not have to be happy, but I’m sure she will accept that enemies attack when they can.“

After a short pause, he continued. “You have told me much about your childhood, but not that much about your adulthood. I would like to know more.“ He smiled at Jon, trying to entice him to speak of another matter. “Or would you like to hear more about myself, about the Commander of the Night’s Watch who decided to trade with me?“

“Was he perchance the thirteenth Lord Commander?“ How did Jon know that? Stories told south of the Wall about it, probably…

* * *

 

“The castle is yours, my king.” A red-haired woman, Sansa Stark probably, knelt before Jon.

“Raise, Lady Stark.” Jon answered her. And instead of saying more she run to Jon and hugged him tight.

“I’m so glad that you returned safely” Brandon heard her whisper to Jon. Then she looked up, probably to decide if she would need to greet them formally too, and froze as she saw Brandon.

“Jon, what?” She spoke faintly, but loud enough that everyone could hear her. Everyone… The other people were staring at Brandon (and Benjen) too, some had even drawn a weapon.

“Oh, yes… I… Someone… You! Bring me bread and salt.” Jon gestured to a person. “Sansa, you know already Benjen, things happened, but well… And this is Brandon Stark, the Night King.”

Brandon inclined his head as deep as his customs demanded (he would not bow, he was a king before a lady, even if she was family).

An unpleasant silence spread until the person sent to find bread and salt returned.

Jon seemed glad as he said: “I offer you guest right to Winterfell, king Stark.”

“Thank you.” Said Brandon as he took the offered dish and ate from it.

* * *

 

Brandon and Jon were alone in the latter’s solar, the evening meal had been a stifled affair, fear and mistrust had hung heavy in the air. Now they were alone, nobody there to stare at Brandon, well that was not true, Jon was staring at him right now. But his heated look spoke not of fear or any other negative emotions but of attraction and – hopefully – fondness.

“I’m really curious how you will look after tomorrow’s ritual.” Jon said, which explained his heated look.

“Not that different from any other Stark, I believe.”

“But still, did you have blue eyes?”

“Not as bright as they now are, but yes I did.”

The door creaked, Brandon turned his head to look why. It was Jon’s dire wolf, a huge beast, but not fully grown yet.

“He is magnificent. You should be proud.” Compliments, he had found out, were able to fluster Jon more often than not.

Indeed, Jon blushed. “Thank you, but did the Starks not have dire wolves in your time too?”

“Some had, but the decision that Starks should mainly warg dire wolves came after my time. And even then, they warged adult dire wolves not ones they raised themselves. And a dire wolf raised by an attentive human will always be bigger than one who grew up in the wild.” He looked intently at Jon.

“Oh.”

Brandon would really like to kiss Jon now, but that had to wait until after the ritual. Brandon wanted even more than that, he really wanted to have Jon at his side, or being Jon’s side, for the rest of his live. Something of that must have shown on his face, because Jon softly exhaled again.

“Tomorrow.” Jon said then.

“Tomorrow.” Brandon confirmed.

 


	3. third on the list: gain your own face again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ritual happens.  
> (New scene in chapter 2.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I invested too much time in that spell, translating middle high german to modern german is much, much easier than trying to write in it.

The people were nervous, shuffling around in the limited space around the Heart Tree. Hopefully letting everyone watch the ritual would have the intended effect of making people more trusting of him and his powers.

Brandon and Benjen stood directly before the Heart Tree, behind them Jon and the other nobles. He took one of the two chalices filled with water and twelve drops of blood and gestured to Benjen to take the other one. The magic was there, now he had to intonate the Old Gods and make them aware of what he wanted.

“Wazzer reinegent geist. Wazzer reinegent lîp. Wazzer reinegent zouber. Zwelf Groze hœret min. Zouber bis gesîn.”

Now he could drink the water and blood. And he felt it, as soon as it touched his lips it began to cleanse his body of the curse. He could breathe freer, he felt warm and alive, and the magic around him... Oh so powerful, belonging only to the Old Gods, being free of the corruption of the thrice damned Children.

He heard gasps and stifled cries from behind him, the change must be noticeable to them now.

He looked at Benjen, who stared at him, but had not drunk the water yet.

“I have not betrayed you. It is magic as safe as any magic can be.”

“Alright... I will...” He made an awkward gesture with the hand holding the chalice. Then he drank the water and blood mixture.

The magic worked fast on him too. But Brandon didn‘t watch him, he looked for Jon. Suddenly nervous, what if Jon didn‘t like him in this form?

But Jon didn‘t look at him, he watched Benjen at the moment. Instead it was young Bran (Jon had had found some time to introduce Brandon to Jon‘s remaining family) who observed him intently. Brandon walked over to him, because - well Jon and he had made an arrangement to talk privately later and what could they do now in public?

* * *

 

Brandon walked over to Bran, the young man was interesting (and nearer to Jon than Brandon's old place under the tree).

“You practice magic yourself, don’t you?” Brandon asked.

“Yes, I was taught by the Tree Eyed Crow.” Some little bugger had still that title? There were that many Children still around?

“So, you were taught the Children’s magic.” He snorted. “That won’t do, you are one of my descendants. I will teach you better.”

Hah, now Brandon saw Bran without his arrogant mien as it gave way to confusion.

“I will call on you when I have time.” Brandon continued.

Yes! There was still a child in this young greenseer.

“Of course, my ...” Was he still that unfriendly looking or was it his reputation that stole young Bran's worlds?

“You are family, call me by my name.”

“Alright.” And now the first smile. Good. Brandon inclined his head.

* * *

 

The people had dispersed, some were talking intensely in small groups, others were heading towards the big hall.

Jon was still here, alone and looking at the Weirwoodtree. He looked gorgeous and with less people watching, Brandon allowed himself to stare. He wore still some of the clothes Brandon had gifted him and looked like what he was - a great Stark king.

“My king of the North.”

“My king of Winter.”

Brandon chuckled. „Is that how we will divide our power?“

Jon smiled teasingly at him, mirth clear in his eyes. “Maybe.” Then he seemed to sober up. “I thought you would look older. But...” he trailed off.

“Instead I look like a man in his twenties? Yes, I look young, the Old Gods favour me, and all they favour gain much. They like you too.”

“Truly?” Jon looked a bit sceptical.

“You are too young to experience the slowed down aging, but have you never survived things that most wouldn’t have? Had had more luck than anyone else?“

Jon had the Stark look of dramatic brooding when thinking, and Brandon loved it. The minutes Jon took to mull over Brandon's question, he used to admire Jon's face from near. Eventually Jon began to speak anew.

“In the battle for Winterfell arrows seemed incapable of hitting me. And my election to Lord Commander was - very surprising. Are those things the Old Gods can influence?“

Brandon had to smile, because well – “Yes, that sounds very much like them. I wonder what you did to impress them? Maybe they will tell me.” As wonderful as Jon was it must have been something spectacular.

“They talk?” Hmm, that hadn’t come up yet, hadn’t it?

“Sometimes, but the curse interfered, and I wasn’t able to hear them.” Which had made Brandon’s world even more devoid of other live than it had been due to the curse. He frowned.

Jon laid his hand on Brandon’s shoulder, it was very comforting. And it reminded him, that that part of his live was finally over. He looked around, a bit embarrassed. There were no people here anymore.

“Come, we should go to the feast, the people will want to see the king they had chosen.” Brandon said. And now he had forgotten to ask Jon if he liked Brandon's new look. Fuck!

“And we will speak more this evening.” And thank the Gods for that.

“Yes.” And maybe more? At least, if Jon still liked him enough, but he had known that Brandon had (and now finally did again) look like a Stark. Besides his apparent age, there should have been no surprise, so Jon still liked him for sure.


End file.
